


Purple Eye

by caramelkaren



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:51:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelkaren/pseuds/caramelkaren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gordon comes to Fitton for yet another attempt at claiming G-ERTI, Martin winds up taking a bit of a beating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purple Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Cabin Crew Riot Two! Prompt 1: Colors (Purple)
> 
> This was the fic that made me realize why there's such a thing as pre-slash. Because I wanted something to happen between these two, but my brain just didn't seem to be ready to make them a couple yet. I mean, remember my Valentine's fic?

When Martin woke up that morning on the floor of his attic instead of in wrapped up in his covers, he knew that today was not going to be a good day. Sometimes one just had a hunch about those things.

So when he drove to Fitton Airfield that morning and saw what he now learned to recognize as Gordon Shappey's car, he could honestly say he wasn't as surprised as he normally would have been.

Martin sighed before turning off the engine to his van. Ever since the incident in St. Petersburg, Gordon had been popping up in Fitton almost regularly. If regularly meant without any real pattern to how long between visits. Then again, that could only be expected out of a drunkard such as him. In fact, that was probably the worst part of these appearances. Gordon was consistently plastered on each and every one of them.

“Why can't he just give it up?” Martin asked himself. He reluctantly left the isolation of his van, not wanting to have to face the man at all, but knowing he did have some plane to fly.

“For the last time, Baldy, it's my. Jet. Now!”

“Ya never deserved it though!”

Oh, wonderful. He just walked right into the middle of a heated argument. What perfect background noise for while checking over today's flight plan.

“Oh, but apparently I did! Why else would I have managed to win it in the divorce?”

“'Cause you musta * hic * payed off the 'udge or...somethin'.”

“No, I got it because you're always drunk, and if you would've been left with G-ERTI you would've killed yourself by now while flying her! Though that wouldn't be such a horrible fate for you.”

Martin stopped working on the plan and started rubbing his temples, trying his best to not let their fighting get to him. Usually when the two of them were at it, it just maid him testy for the rest of the day. And here the day had barely begun. Good thing he didn't have to grow up having them as parents...Speaking of which, where was Arthur? Did he go hide on G-ERTI like he sometimes did? If there was anyone to feel sorry for when Gordon stopped by, it was MJN's steward. He was unfortunately stuck in the middle of these arguments for over 30 years of his life just because he happened to be their child. It wasn't like he ever did anything wrong...Martin decided to check to see if the younger man was on the jet, which was also a good excuse get himself out of this volatile environment.

“Arthur? Are, are you in here?”

“Back here, Skip!” came his voice, ever cheerful despite the circumstances, from the galley.

“Umm, are you doing okay?”

“I'm...alright,” Arthur mumbled. But Martin knew what that meant. It meant he wasn't really all that fine. It wasn't that the steward was lying, but “alright” seemed to be his word for when things weren't good at all, just like “brilliant” was his word for when he liked something even just a little bit. He learned that one when Arthur was first trying to describe Gordon...

“Don't worry, I hate it when your dad tries to buy G-ERTI off of us too. Doesn't he remember how we stopped him once? Oh wait, that much alcohol in someone does impair your judgment.”

“Why couldn't he just phone Mum like he used to?”

“I don't know. Who knows what goes on inside that bastard's head.”

“Do you think they're done fighting in there?”

“No, they were shouting quite loudly when I decided to leave them. I doubt it'd be over just like that.”

“You know, it wouldn't be so bad if it was back at home. I used to just hide in my room with all my stuffed animals. I had a polar bear, an otter, a camel, a little puppy, and even a dinosaur! But I usually clutched onto my polar bear whenever they fought. I didn't know it until I was a little older, but polar bear Mums will often fight off male polar bears because they try to hurt their babies. Even though I knew they were brilliant before, I knew they were extra special now because they were just like Mum.”

Martin wasn't sure what to say about that. How could anything he may say possibly make that situation any better? It wouldn't. What happened had happened. But polar bears. That actually explained a lot really...

After a few minutes in silence, Arthur finally managed to pipe up again. “Skip, I think they might have left. Should we go check?”

“Oh, well, if you want to, I guess, but I don't think-”

Martin wasn't able to finish that thought as Arthur (who was actually stronger than he looked when he set his mind to something) pulled him off G-ERTI. He honestly didn't want to go back out there, and he wasn't sure why Arthur was so willing to do so.

When they got out there though, Martin couldn't help but smirk. Gordon had been effectively locked out of the office and was now knocking on the door trying to get back in. Leave it to Carolyn to manage to unceremoniously slam him out.

Soon, Gordon tired and finally realizing in that intoxicated head of his that once again he lost the fight in reclaiming the jet, he slumped against the door. It didn't take long for his gaze to meet Martin's. Or more specifically, Arthur's right beside him. “You...”

“Hi, Dad!”

To anyone who hadn't had to work with Arthur near daily on MJN Air for years, like for example Gordon, probably thought the steward sounded like his regular old cheerful self. But to someone who had worked with Arthur near daily, he could hear the little nuances that were betraying a much more vulnerable feeling. Without even realizing what he was doing, Martin reached out and grabbed the younger man's hand.

Now if it was to soothe Arthur or to help Martin shake in his shoes less, it was unsure which. Especially when Gordon was staring at them as if he was the Big Bad Wolf and the two of them were Little Red Riding Hoods.

“Y'know, tis all your fault,” Gordon slurred.

“What is?” Arthur asked.

“This! This whole thing with the divorce! I bet if ya'd never been born it woulda never happened!”

Martin wasn't sure where the sudden surge of confidence came from, but suddenly he found himself saying, “I'm sure Carolyn would've left you even if you hadn't had a child.”

“I never said ya could talk! And what do ya even know? It was him that sent me ta the bottle in the first place!”

No, that couldn't be right...

“But Mum said I was just a baby when it all happened,” Arthur protested.

“Yeah, with all ya crying and whinin'. I never wanted a kid. I never wanted ya.”

Martin found himself angry. How could anyone just say that right to their child's face?

“Then why'd you have me?” Now Arthur sounded completely broken. Would it be so wrong for Martin to go up there and just punch him right in the face?

“You naïve, stupid lil thing. It wasn't like I could choose whether or not ya mum got knocked up! And then what came of ya. This,” Gordon said, gesturing up and down Arthur's whole length. “Just...stupid.”

“Stupid?” Martin piped up, now letting go of Arthur's hand to walk up a little closer to Gordon. “A little slow to get things maybe, but he's not stupid.”

“And how would you know, eh?”

“I work with him every day Mr. Shappey.”

“I had ta raise him.”

“Yeah, but did you really? The way you've been talking, sounds like you just drank and drank and drank instead of caring for your son. Maybe if you weren't on the bottle constantly, you would've seen Arthur's potential.”

“Potential? He's a steward on a one jet company owned by his mum. How's that for potential for ya?”

That was it. Martin walked right up to Gordon and pushed him. The man staggered a bit as he tried to regain his senses. Or at least the little bit of senses a drunk man could have. But what Martin didn't expect was for a drunk to be able to hit his target quite accurately. Because once Gordon gained his senses, he was punched right in the eye.

Martin cried out at the pain. What was he thinking? If Kieran could easily beat him into the fetal position on the floor, then what could a grown man do? Why did he shove Gordon like that?

“Skip!” came Arthur's cry, and Martin heard his footsteps approaching. “Skip? Are you okay?” Arthur asked as he spun the pilot around to get a good look at him.

“My eye!”

“You're mean!” Arthur shouted to his dad. “Absolutely mean!”

“He started it.”

“No, you made him angry! And, and...you deserved it!”

“I deserved it?”

“Yeah! Why don't you just go home?”

Soon the doors opened and Carolyn walked out side, “Just what in hell's name is going on here? Gordon! I thought I told you to-”

“Mum, he's hurt Skip!”

“You did what?”

“He punched him!”

“So trying to steal my jet isn't enough for you, but now you're hurting my pilots?”

“That Skip or whatever shoved me first.”

“Well, good for him. But you can't touch any of them. Now, do you need escorted out or do you know the way?”

“I'll get that plane back from you one of these days! Just ya wait!”

Martin didn't even see Gordon take off because he was by now being dragged on to the plane. “Let's get you to the first aid kit, Skip.”

When they got on the plane, Arthur was immediately taking a thorough inspection of that one eye and then looking through the first aid kit to see if anything would work.

“So, ummm, how bad is it, Nurse Shappey?”

“Nurse? Ooh, are we playing a game?”

“I was just joking a little, but I guess you can make it a game of pretend...if you'd like.”

“Brilliant! Well, Mr. Crieff,” Arthur began in his best dignified voice (which really wasn't all that dignified), “It looks like you've got a bad case of purple eye.”

“Don't you mean a black eye?”

“Excuse me, I'm the nurse, and I should know what I'm diagnosing!”

Martin couldn't help but laugh. “All right, I'll take your word for it.”

“So, what you need to do is take this ice pack and place it over your eye so it doesn't swell up too much.”

“Thank you, that'll really help.”

“But Skip,” Arthur said, leaving his make-pretend mode, “I should be thanking you. You stood up for me.”

“I couldn't have him just trampling over you like that. But what amazes me is how you stood up to him at the end. You never get angry at people! The last time you did, it was because you were protecting Carolyn.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So...this time it was because of me. You can't stand up to Gordon for yourself, but when he hurts me...I, well I just...I don't get it.”

“I've never thought of standing up to Dad when he's being mad at me because he's always been that way to me. It's how he's always gonna act around me, isn't it? That's a saying right, 'always has, always will be?' What's the point of getting mad at him if that will never change? All I can do is just try to be nice and normal around him. But the way he punched you. Maybe I don't mind if he treats me the same he always has, but if he's going to be mean to you too...I don't really know. I guess I just don't want that for you, Skip.”

Martin reached out and hugged Arthur tightly. “I can't believe that man's your father when you're just so...so kind.”

When Martin let go of his hug, Arthur immediately began with, “But you stood up for me too! That was just brilliant! Well, despite the fact it got you a purple eye.”

“They're actually called black eyes though.”

“Really? They don't look black. Why are they called that then?”

“I honestly have no clue.”

“But you were confident for once. Not that you can't be, but not like that.”

“Hey, no one should be allowed to mess with my steward.”

My steward? Since when did he become so possessive over Arthur? Normally he would've said “our” steward, as in MJN. Not his. Not as in “just belonging to Martin.”

“And no one should be allowed to mess with my Skipper. Hey, you don't have that ice pack on your eye yet.”

“Oh, sorry Nurse Shappey.”


End file.
